


In Between Days

by Psychosomatic_Addict



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Come to the right side, Draco is NOT the bad guy, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, POV Draco Malfoy, filling in the blanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25964866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psychosomatic_Addict/pseuds/Psychosomatic_Addict
Summary: What happened to Draco after he failed to kill Dumbledore? Why did he choose to not hand over Harry to Voldemort when he had the chance at Malfoy Manor? What did he do in those days from Dumbledore’s death up to Harry taking his wand?This is that story from Draco's point of view.These are Draco’s in between days.******************************************************************I have stayed true to the books rather than the movies.The mature rating is for some scenes of torture and some strong language.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 8





	1. Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Draco to fulfill his task - but he fails. How does he feel? What thoughts are running through his head?

‘Avada Kedavra’  
  
A flash of green light streaked across the tower from Snape’s wand hitting Dumbledore squarely in the chest. There was a look of shock and, surprisingly, relief on the Headmaster’s face as he was lifted off his feet by the force of the blast, lifted up over the battlements, where he seemed to float for just a second, before falling backwards. And then he was gone.  
  
The world slowed down, the air around Draco seemed to congeal to the consistency of jelly; it was suffocating, paralyzing.  
  
_I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe._  
  
All he could do was stare at the place where Dumbledore had last stood. He was shocked to realize he still had his wand in his hand, still raised and pointed at that now empty spot on the ramparts. He was the one who was supposed to kill Dumbledore, it was his job, personally given to him by the Dark Lord, the one that he had to complete or he and his family would die. But he hadn’t done it, he had failed.  
  
He had no more time to think on what his failure might mean as he was jerked roughly aside. Snape gripped the back of his shirt collar, pulling it tight against his throat, adding to the feeling of asphyxiation, and dragged him forcibly towards the door.  
  
“Out of here, quickly.”  
  
Draco stumbled, trying to make his legs move, trying to keep on his feet as Snape hauled him from the tower.  
  
The reality of what had just happened hit Draco like a bludger to the stomach. Dumbledore was dead, the Headmaster of Hogwarts was dead, and there were Death Eaters in the school. Panic crawled up Draco’s spine, icy cold fingers of panic.  
  
_I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe._  
  
The world was turning black before his eyes, he felt dizzy and faint, his ears filled with a low buzzing sound, and the only thing keeping him on his feet was Snape’s arm holding him up as they ran down the spiral staircase. They reached the corridor below, Draco sucked in the breath that he had been so desperate to take at the sight that greeted him. It was chaos. The ceiling had collapsed littering the floor with rock and rubble, the air was thick with clouds of dust and smoke from a fire at the far end of the corridor.  
  
Draco’s hearing came back to him in rush of sound. It was the screaming he heard first, the battle screams of the Death Eaters, the responding screams of The Order as they fought against them, and the screams of the wounded and dying. Then the sound of the battle itself, the blasting of spells cast in all directions, the sharp crack of glass shattering, the boom of stone breaking and falling.  
  
_Make it stop, please make it stop._  
  
He wanted to cover his ears to drown out the noise but Snape was gripping his arm dragging him on through the fighting. Draco had to step over bodies, he didn’t see who they were and he didn’t want to know, and all around him the battle raged on. He glanced behind where he could see Alecto fighting with McGonagall and Amycus throwing jinxes at the Weasley girl, the whole corridor was full of individual fights.  
  
“It’s over, time to go.”  
  
Snape was dragging him so hard that Draco thought his arm would be wrenched out from the socket. His feet slipped on something red and sticky. He looked down to see Longbottom sprawled on the floor clutching his stomach.  
  
_Blood. Fuck. Real blood. Is it Longbottom’s?_  
  
He couldn’t tell. Snape was pulling him around the corner at the end of the corridor. Draco saw Potter standing at the other end, his wand raised pointing at them, and then he was gone from view as Fenrir launched himself at the Gryffindor.  
  
_Fuck, fuck, fuck._  
  
Snape kept running, his cape billowing out behind them, his face a mask of nothingness. Draco had no idea where they were heading as they ran through empty corridors away from the fighting.  
  
_Back to the Room of Requirements? That would make sense; we could get back to Borgin and Burkes._  
  
Snape mumbled something under his breath but Draco couldn’t make out what he was saying over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears and the harsh breaths heaving from his chest. Their feet slapped against the stone floor, the sound echoing in the enclosed space, more footsteps came from behind, Draco could hear the cackling laughs of the Carrow’s as someone threw jinxes and curses at them. He and Snape plunged down the marble staircase that lead to the main entrance to the castle. Snape had his wand in his hand shouting out the spell as they cleared the final step and headed across the entrance hall.  
  
“Reducto”  
  
The oak front doors exploded into splinters, Draco winced as some sharp wooden pieces snagged his arm, blood dripping on to the flagstones as he ran with Snape through the jagged remains of the doors. They ran across the grounds heading for the gates beyond which they could apparate back to Malfoy Manor.  
  
Draco focused on the iron of the gates.  
  
_Just get to the gates, get to the gates and I can go home._  
  
Behind him he could hear shouts from the castle, he ran faster, his fear providing him with extra speed and motivation. There was a flash of light as a spell hit the ground in front of him, almost knocking him to his knees, but he kept running. More spells flew past his head missing by inches, Snape raised his wand flinging out curses as they ran, and Draco saw the huge outline of the half-giant Hagrid standing outside his hut trying to stop their escape. The air was ripped apart by the sound of shouts and flashes of light as spells flew back and forth. Draco was truly terrified.  
  
_Don’t look back, just get to the fucking gates_.  
  
“Stupify”  
  
A jet of red light tore past Draco. He knew that voice and, against all his instincts, he looked back. There in the darkness, illuminated by the light from various spells, was Harry Potter running towards them, wand raised and an expression of sheer determination on his face.  
  
Draco stopped running. The sight of Potter bravely facing down Snape, not giving a shit that Snape was a Death Eater and a master of the dark arts, broke something in Draco. All year he had been terrified of failing in his task, terrified because he was terrified of the Dark Lord and terrified of dying. Yet here was Potter risking his life because he believed in himself, and his love for his friends overrode all his fears. In that instant Draco knew where his true feelings lay.  
  
_I can't do this anymore, I don't believe in the Dark Lord’s mission, I don't want to be a Death Eater, I don't want to kill anyone._  
  
Dumbledore’s words from earlier that night floated into his head, ‘ _come over to the right side Draco’_ , and Draco wished that he had taken the chance when it had been offered to him.  
  
_I fucked up, I totally fucked up._  
  
But it was too late now. Dumbledore was dead and there was nothing he could do.  
  
“Run Draco.”  
  
Snape shouted as he turned to face Potter, his own wand raised ready to fight. Draco couldn’t bear to watch so he ran, he ran through the gates and heart pounding in his chest he apperated back to Malfoy Manor.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
He had apparated while still running and had very nearly splinched himself in the process. He spun back into being in the foyer of Malfoy Manor; he was disorientated, scared, and immediately vomited onto the floor by his feet.  
  
“Welcome home Draco.” The Dark Lord was standing in the doorway to the dining room, his snake winding around his legs, its beady eyes focused on Draco. “It seems that you failed in your task and left Severus to clean up your mess.”  
  
“I…I..” Draco couldn’t form any words. His tongue felt as though it was stuck to the roof of his mouth.  
  
“What should we do about Draco’s failure Nagini?” Dark Lord flicked his wand and Draco was suddenly bound by invisible chains.  
  
The snake slithered across the tiled floor towards him, forked tongue darting in and out of its mouth, nostrils sniffing the air as if trying to catch the scent of his fear.  
  
_I’m going to die, this is how I’m going to die._  
  
‘Yesssss,” the Dark Lord hissed, “we could serve him up as your dinner.”  
  
The snake was now sliding over Draco’s feet, he had never been as mortally afraid as he was in this moment.  
  
“But what fun would that be? No, it is more fitting that Draco here should see the humiliation he has brought upon his family. _Feel_ the humiliation.”  
  
The Dark Lord raised a hand and the snake slid back to his master’s feet.  
  
“Never again will you fail me Draco. There are no more chances. You and your family are mine to command, you will obey me in every order, every demand, every decree. Is that understood?”  
  
Draco nodded, it was only the binding spell that was keeping him upright.  
  
“Good, then your first task is to clean the cellar, the smell has become disturbing to me.” The Dark Lord sniffed the air as his snake had done just moments before. “But you should experience the conditions first hand. Wormtail, take Draco down to the cellar, he will be spending the night with our guests.”  
  
The Dark Lord released the spell holding Draco, he fell to the floor landing in the pile of his own vomit.  
  
Pettigrew shuffled into view from behind the Dark Lord. “Of course Master, I shall make sure he is _comfortable_.”  
  
Pettigrew led Draco down to the cellar. It was dark, cold and damp, and the air smelled of blood, piss and fear. Draco could sense more than see other people around him, heard the clanking of chains as Pettigrew led Draco to the darkest corner of the cellar. A house elf was mopping the floor, the bucket beside him full of dirty water, murky with filth, blood and urine. Pettigrew pushed him up against the rough stone wall. He bound Draco’s hands at the wrists lifting them above his head and secured them on a hook.  
  
“You look a bit too content Malfoy,” Pettigrew snarled. “I think you need to feel a bit more repentant.”  
  
Pettigrew pulled on the chain lifting Draco up until only the tips of his toes were in contact with the floor.  
  
Pettigrew cocked his head to one side sneering at Draco with his small, ratty eyes. “Still too cozy.”  
  
Pettigrew waved his wand and suddenly Draco was naked, the coldness of the air on his bare skin making him shiver and buck, twisting him around on the hook. It was agony on his wrists and shoulders but he bit back a groan, not wanting to show any weakness in front of the Dark Lord’s sniveling servant.  
  
“You smell too clean. You are filth, you should smell like filth.” Pettigrew stepped away out of Draco’s view. He returned a few seconds later holding the bucket. “Maybe this will help.” Draco could smell the foulness of the water and instinctively closed his eyes.  
  
The cold liquid hit him full in the face; it covered him from head to toe, dripping from his hair, droplets running down his body. He gagged and for the second time that night vomited.  
  
“Sleep well Malfoy,” Pettigrew chuckled, “enjoy your night.”  
  
The moans started as soon as Pettigrew left the cellar and Draco was mortified to find his own among them.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Draco had spent the night sobbing from the physical agony of his shoulders and from the mental anguish of his remorse; he didn’t know which pain was worse. Pettigrew had released him at dawn, he was provided with buckets and brushes, and Draco spent hours on his hands and knees scrubbing the floor of the cellar until Perrigrew deemed it clean. It was late afternoon when Draco finally stood up. Every part of his body hurt, his legs felt weak, his head ached, as he tried to walk towards the door his vision swam and he collapsed into unconsciousness on the floor he had just cleaned.  
  
His dreams were filled with nightmares. Dumbledore dangling him over the ramparts then letting him fall, smiling serenely as Draco tumbled through the air towards the flagstones below. _‘You chose the wrong side Draco’_ , Dumbledore mocked, _‘only death can save you now._ ’ Snape turning into a huge bat, his wings wrapped around Draco, squeezing him, suffocating him, until he was nothing but a pile of dust. Draco laying on the bathroom floor, Harry standing over him, green eyes filled with hate, wand pointing at Draco, ‘ _Snape isn’t here to save you this time Malfoy….Sectumsempra._ ’ The Dark Lord laughing as Nagini engulfed Draco whole, swallowing him deep into the belly of the snake. The nightmares wouldn’t stop, on and on, over and over, Draco was lost in a permanent cycle of terror and horror.  
  
“Draco my love, it’s ok, it’s ok.”  
  
A cold, damp towel wiped across his forehead.  
  
“Draco, my dragon, wake up.”  
  
_My mother’s voice, why is my mother in the cellar?_  
  
“Draco, it’s time to wake up.”  
  
Draco tried to open his eyes, his eyelids felt heavy and it was an effort to force them apart. He squinted at the bright sunlight streaming in through the window; he wasn’t in the cellar, he was in his bedroom. The last thing he remembered was feeling dizzy in the cellar and seeing the floor rush to meet him as he fell.  
  
“What happened?” Draco’s throat was sore and dry, he had difficulty in forcing the words past his parched lips.  
  
“You got sick my sweet,” his mother gently swept his hair from his brow, “you have been asleep for three days but you have to get up now. He’s been asking for you.”  
  
Fear clenched his stomach into knots. “What does he want?”  
  
“I don’t know my love but you shouldn’t keep him waiting.”  
  
His mother helped him dress, he was embarrassed that he was so weak, even more so when he had to lean on her arm to walk from his room to the dining room where the Dark Lord was waiting, seated at the head of the large dining table. His father sat to his right pale and stony faced, Draco hadn’t spoken to his father since returning to the Manor but he knew he would be furious that Draco had failed in his task.  
  
Voldemort’s smile was flat and humourless. “Ah, there you are Draco, I trust you are recovered from your indisposition. Please sit. You too Narcissa.”  
  
Draco took the seat next to his father, his mother sat next to him holding his hand under the table and giving it a squeeze.  
  
“It is disappointing that the Malfoy name, once a name of such power, is now associated with failure.” The Dark Lord raised his wand to point at Draco's father. “You failed me in obtaining the prophecy,” the wand moved to point at Draco, “and you failed to complete your task. You are not fit to serve me. ”  
  
Draco shuddered, gripping his mother’s hand so tight that she squirmed in her chair.  
  
_He’s going to kill us, he said he would kill us if I failed, it’s all my fault._  
  
“I should kill you now but I find I do have some small use for the Malfoys.” The wand was lowered. “I have need of a place, a place where my trusted and _successful_ commanders can meet.” Voldemort waved a hand around the room. “Despite the disgrace that you have brought upon yourselves I find your Manor a perfect place for such gatherings. I will be moving my base of operations here, and perhaps, if you make yourselves useful, I may find a place for you after I have won the war.” He stood and made his way out of the room, pausing at the door. “I suggest you make preparations, my forces will be arriving shortly.”  
  
As soon as Voldemort had left his father turned on Draco. “We had the chance to redeem our name but you destroyed it, your cowardice has cost us our name, our standing.”  
  
“Father I – “  
  
“Do not call me father. I raised you to be strong, powerful, successful not a sniveling child who hides in his bed for three days.”  
  
Draco hung his head, heat flooding across his cheeks at his shame. His mother squeezed his hand again, Draco was glad for the comfort.  
  
“Lucius,” his mother’s voice was low but strong, “he tried, and he is only a child, it was not a task for a child.”  
  
He glared at Draco and his mother. “He is seventeen. He should have been able to kill a feeble old man. If we have any chance of surviving this humiliation we have to do exactly what The Dark Lord wants. Anything and everything he asks.” He banged his serpent head walking stick on the table making both Draco and his mother jump. “There will be no more failures, no disobedience, no more insubordination. Do I make myself clear?”  
  
“Yes.” Draco and his mother both said.  
  
“Then you should do as our Lord suggests and prepare the house for our guests, and do it well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the spoken dialogue for the tower and fight and flight scene directly from Half Blood Prince (end of chapter 27 and through to the start chapter 28)
> 
> I hope seeing the story from Draco's point of view brings a new meaning to the scene.
> 
> As always feedback and comments welcome.
> 
> Peace and love xx


	2. Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has to attend a meeting of Death Eaters and the 'guest of honour' is a familiar face.

Draco spent as much time as he could in his rooms over the next few days as one by one the Death Eaters arrived at the Manor. His childhood home felt polluted by the presence of Voldemort, his happy memories defiled by the cries and screams of the prisoners in the dungeon and the laughter of their captors. His aunt Bellatrix scared him shitless, she was insane and insanely devoted to Voldemort, and he stayed out of her way as much as he did The Dark Lord’s.  
  
Voldemort was hosting a large meeting that night, Draco’s presence was mandatory, and his father had pre-warned him not to say anything. Draco didn’t want to go, he wanted to stay hidden away, he didn’t want any part of The Dark Lord’s plans, but he had no choice. Father was right about one thing, if the Malfoys wanted to survive they had to follow every order, obey every request, perform every task asked of them, but Draco did so with a heavy heart.  
  
_There must be a way out; there must be a way of being on the right side whilst still appearing to be on the wrong side. Snape had been managing to play both sides for years so surely he could do the same?_  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by his mother.  
  
“It’s time.”  
  
Draco had dressed carefully for the meeting, dark unassuming clothing, nothing to attract the attention of The Dark Lord. His mother was similarly dressed he noted, and he wondered if his face was as pale as hers as they made their way down to the drawing room. The furniture had been pushed up against the walls to make space for the long dining table around which the Death Eaters were seated. His mother lead Draco to the two vacant seats next to his father. Draco glanced at Lucius, he had avoided his father since their meeting earlier that week and he was shocked at the change in him. His skin now had a yellowish hue and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and his normally piercing eyes were sunken and shadowed. Draco suspected that his father had received further punishments for the Malfoy failures. Three chairs now remained empty, one at the head of the table, one to the right of it and one further down. The rasp of scales on tile announced Voldemort’s arrival; the snake slithered its way across the room ahead of its master, Draco had to hold in a moan as it wound its way under the table, slipping across his feet to Voldemort’s chair.  
  
“We have a guest with us tonight,” Voldemort said as he walked to his seat, “please pay her no mind, she is for entertainment purposes only.”  
  
Draco stared in shock as an unconscious woman floated across the room coming to rest suspended in the air above the table.  
  
_Fuck, it’s Professor Burbage._  
  
Draco did not take Muggle Studies but he knew the professor from school. He bit back another moan and clasped his hands together beneath the table to stop them shaking.  
  
“No word from Severus or Yaxley?” Voldemort asked as he stroked the head of the snake.  
  
There was silence from those gathered at the table, the only sound came from the spitting and cracking of the fire in the ornate fireplace. A few minutes passed. Draco tried to keep his eyes downcast but he couldn’t help but glance up at the professor as she revolved above the table like a pig roasting on a spit.  
  
A door banged open in the distance, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, the door to the drawing room opened and two wizards entered the room.  
  
“Yaxley. Snape,” Voldemort said from the head of the table. “You are very nearly late.” He indicated the empty chair next to him. “Severus here, Yaxley – beside Dolohov.”  
  
“So?” Voldemort asked as Snape took his seat.  
  
“My Lord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday next, at nighfall.”  
  
Draco stiffened in his chair.  
  
_Potter, they were planning to catch Potter. If The Dark Lord captured Potter then they were all doomed. With Potter out of the way there was nothing stopping The Dark Lord from winning the war. And if he won the war then the world would become terrible, it would be a place of torture and death._  
  
Draco’s attention refocused back on the room, eyes briefly sliding to watch Professor Burbage revolve slowly above him.  
  
“Where are they going to hide the boy next?” Voldemort asked Snape  
  
“At the home of one of the Order. The place, according to the source, has been given every protection that the Order and Ministry could provide. I think there is little chance of taking him once he is there, my Lord, unless, of course, the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the opportunity to discover and undo enough of the enchantments to break through the rest.”  
  
“Well Yaxley? Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?” Voldemort pinned Yaxley with his eyes.  
  
The rest of the room stared at Yaxley too.  
  
“My Lord, I have good news on that score. I have – with difficulty, and after great effort – succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse.” Yaxley said with confidence.  
  
Draco’s heart leapt into his mouth. If the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was compromised then it opened the door for other ministers to be converted, and that would leave the Minister for Magic, and the Ministry itself, vulnerable. He listened to the discussion with a growing sense of horror as plans were laid to capture Potter when he left his home to be moved to the safe house.  
  
A wail from the cellar made Draco almost jump in his seat, he knew how it felt to be in that place, to be chained up and hang from the ceiling, arm sockets screaming with pain. He shivered at the memory, his mother placed a gentle hand on his knee motioning for him to show no emotion. Draco tried to school his face to emptiness, he focused on the table in front of him, eyes tracing the patterns in the wood.  
  
Voldemort was looking at the wand in his hands. “As I was saying, I understand better now. I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter.”  
  
Draco raised his head in shock, his expression was mirrored in the faces of everyone around the table. The silence was deafening.  
  
“No volunteers?” Voldemort said. “Let’s see….Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore.”  
  
Draco swallowed hard. _Another jab at the Malfoy family, we really are in deep shit._  
  
“My Lord?” his father said from beside him.  
  
“Your wand, Lucius. I require your wand.”  
  
“I…” Stupidly his father seemed to be about to refuse, but Draco saw his mother touch his wrist beneath the table counselling him to comply. He removed his wand and passed it down the table to his master.  
  
Voldemort examined the wand. “What is it?”  
  
“Elm, my Lord.”  
  
“And the core?”  
  
“Dragon – dragon heartstring.”  
  
Voldemort compared his wand to his father’s wand. His father appeared to reach out his hand, Draco groaned inwardly.  
  
“Give you my wand Lucius? My wand?”  
  
Draco cringed and his gaze travelled back up to Professor Burbridge, he felt sick to his stomach at the sight of the witch revolving above him. He had no love for her views but to have a Hogwart’s teacher held prisoner in his own home sickened him beyond belief. She was harmless; she taught a useless class to students who did not have the aptitude for Transfiguration class.  
  
His father kicked Draco under the table, he dragged his eyes away from the teacher floating above him to glance at Voldemort and quickly glanced away again.  
  
_Those eyes terrify me. It’s as though all the evil in the world are contained in those eyes._  
  
Draco tried to distract himself by reciting potion recipes in his head.  
  
_Laughing potion: Spring water, billywig wings, knarl quills, puffskein hair, horseradish powder, alihotsy leaves, laughter.  
  
Shrinking solution: Daisy roots, shrivelfig, caterpillars, rat spleen, leech juice, cowbane, wormwood._  
  
“What say you Draco?” Voldemort’s voice brought Draco back to the room with a start. “Will you babysit the cubs?”  
  
Draco had no idea what the conversation was about, he had been so tuned out he had missed several minutes of conversation. The Death Eaters were laughing; he was terrified that he had missed something important, that he should be saying something, or not saying something. Saying nothing or the wrong thing could get him killed. He looked at his father but his eyes were on his lap clearly humiliated by the conversation. His mother gave the tiniest shake of her head; say nothing, say nothing.  
  
“Enough, Enough.” Voldemort words cut the laughter off instantly.  
  
_What did I miss? What was that about?_  
  
He glanced back at his mother but she was already staring at the wall opposite, her face giving nothing away.  
  
_It must have been about the family, something about the family. Further humiliation.  
  
_Draco’s fear turned to anger, he felt it simmering in his stomach like a fire potion.  
  
The inanimate figure floating above him suddenly came back to life.  
  
“Do you recognize our guest, Severus?” Voldemort almost smiled as he asked.  
  
Snape glanced upwards as Professor Burbage continued to revolve.  
  
“Severus! Help me!” Burbage begged.  
  
The shriek made Draco clench his teeth together and he wrenched his eyes away from her.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And you, Draco?”  
  
He shook his head, to indicate he knew the professor would open up a conversation he did not want to have. He could not look at the teacher, his guilt at denying her tore through his veins like acid.  
  
Voldemort gave Draco a measured look. “But you would not have taken her classes. For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”  
  
Draco was close to tears. He knew what was coming, knew how this was going to end, but he had no way of stopping it, not without forfeiting his life and those of his parents. He dimly heard her desperate pleas, the contempt and anger in Voldemort’s voice, as his brain tried to shut him off from the reality of the situation. He closed his eyes.  
  
“Avada Kedavra.”  
  
The shockwave of the spell knocked Draco out of his chair onto the floor. He was glad he was unable to see the table as Voldemort gave his snake permission to eat the dead professor for dinner.  
  
*********************************************************************************  
  


Draco woke bathed in sweat. The death of the professor was ingrained in his brain and had invaded his sleep, causing nightmares and night terrors. There was a wetness around Draco that was from more than just sweat. The sharp scent of urine filled his nostrils. He hadn’t wet the bed since he was a small child, when the most frightening thing in his life had been a fear of boggarts living under his bed. Tears of shame rolled down his face as he climbed out of bed to pull the soaked bed sheets off the mattress.  
  
“Master Draco?”  
  
Draco jumped at the tiny voice that came from near his feet. He looked down to see one of the house elves standing in front of him, her eyes huge and round.  
  
“Would Master Draco like Milly to help with the bedding? Is Master Draco feeling unwell?”  
  
Draco had never really taken much notice of the house elves, they were just _there_ , like the furniture or the bricks. Dobby had been the only elf he had ever taken notice of, and only then because Potter had freed the elf by tricking his father into giving him an item of clothing that released him from servitude at Malfoy Manor.  
  
“What?” Draco growled, “I just had….a bad dream.”  
  
The elf looked up at him with huge brown eyes. “We have all had bad dreams Master Draco; the Dark Master is scaring all us elves. We do not like him in the house, he makes it so dark.”  
  
“Yes he does,” Draco agreed. He was surprised that the house elves had even noticed. "Everything is dark."  
  
Milly let out a tiny squeak of fright. Draco had never thought about elves having feelings, but he remembered Granger mounting a campaign to provide rights to house elves. At the time he had mocked it but maybe she had a point.  
  
“Master Draco should get cleaned up while Milly changes the bedclothes.”  
  
“I believe that is your job - but thank you.”  
  
Draco left Milly to tend to the bedding while he got cleaned up. He stripped off his sodden pajamas and stepped into the shower in his en suite bathroom. The hot water sluiced away the physical evidence but not the memory. He stayed in the shower for a long time, until the water ran cold. He redressed in clean sleepwear and climbed back under clean bed sheets.  
  
He tried to get back to sleep but the fear of repeating the performance kept him awake. In fact he thought he might never sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the spoken dialogue during the meeting scene directly from Deathly Hallows (chapter 1) but I did skip over a few bits covering them with Draco's thoughts as it was a very long scene!
> 
> I hope you are enjoying seeing the scenes through Draco's eyes.
> 
> As always all comments and feedback welcome.
> 
> Peace and love xx


	3. Tasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort provides Draco and his father with a small task to perform - maybe it will get them back in his good books??

The drawing room was filled with Death Eaters once again; Draco cowered in his chair trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. It was the day the Order was moving Potter from his Muggle home to the safe house and Voldemort was reviewing the plans one final time.  
  
“You are sure Severus that they will be taking the boy by air?”  
  
Snape inclined his head. “I have no doubts; there is no other way for them to proceed. The boy will be vulnerable in the air until he reaches the safe house. It is the perfect time to attack.”  
  
“I do not intend for him to reach the safe house,” Voldemort’s grin was just a row of teeth. “Once the boy is located you will summon me. The boy is mine.”  
  
The Death Eaters bowed their heads in acquiescence. Draco kept his eyes fixed on the wall opposite; he couldn’t look at the table without thinking of Professor Burbage, the sound her body made as it hit the table, the slithering of Nagini across the wood surface, the crack of the snake’s jaws as they opened to engulf the teacher. He was still having nightmares but with the help of Milly his nightly shame had not been discovered.  
  
“They are ready my Lord.” Snape said. “We should move now.”  
  
“Go, my loyal friends,” Voldemort’s grin became even more gruesome, “for tonight we shall destroy the Order and Harry Potter. A wonderful night indeed.”  
  
The Death Eaters disapperated leaving Draco, his father, mother and Voldemort alone in the vast room, the hairs on the back of Draco’s neck bristled, the silence was unbearable, he wanted to run from the room.  
  
Voldemort rose from his chair, he came to stand behind Draco, placing a hand on his shoulder and the other on his father’s. Draco suppressed the urge to shudder at the touch.  
  
“I have a job for you. There is a witch who resides in Godric’s Hollow who may be of some use to me in the future. I wish to know about her movements, who she interacts with, how likely it would be that she would be missed. I want you to spy on her.”  
  
“Yes my Lord,” his father said, “anything.”  
  
Draco winced at the sycophantic tone in his father’s voice.  
  
“You are not to interact, you will be there to observe only. This is a menial task so perhaps you may be successful this time.”  
  
“Of course my Lord, we will not fail you.”  
  
“That is good Lucius, as failure is not an option for you or your boy.” Voldemort squeezed Draco’s shoulder hard, the long sharp nails digging painfully into his skin. “You will complete this in the next few days.”  
  
Voldemort stiffened, his head cocked to one side as though hearing voices. “They have found Potter. If all goes well we will be celebrating the death of the boy. Be ready for our return.”  
  
Voldemort disapparted, Draco sagged with relief, he was always so tense when he was around The Dark Lord.  
  
“Narcissa, bring wine and food, go quickly. If the Potter boy dies tonight there will be the need for celebrations.” His father’s eyes glowed with hope. “We must be ready to toast our Lord’s success.”  
  
His mother glanced at him, like Draco she was afraid that preparing for a celebration was not a good idea. If the mission failed The Dark Lord would be in a vicious mood.  
  
“Go!” his father shouted. His mother rose from the table to speak with the kitchen elves. “Draco, we have been given a great honor, another chance to serve our Lord, you must not fail me in this task we have been given.” His father gripped Draco’s arm so hard that he knew he would have bruises by morning. “Your lack of commitment has been a disappointment to me and I will not accept anything other than your complete loyalty. Do I have that loyalty or do I need to _instill_ it.”  
  
Draco blanched.  
  
_He would use the Imperious Curse on me? He has gone fucking mad, his time in Azkaban has driven him crazy._  
  
His father tightened his grip on Draco’s arm. “Well?”  
  
“I am loyal,” Draco said through gritted teeth. “I will not fail you.”  
  
“Good.” The pressure on Draco’s arm relented. “Now go help your mother, they will be returning soon.”

  


There was no victory, no celebration. Harry Potter had evaded them again, he had reached the safety of The Burrow where the ministerial enchantments had prevented Voldemort from following the boy. Mad Eye Moody had been killed and one of the Weasley twins had been injured during the attack but Voldemort was in a rage when he returned to the Manor. He ignored everyone and went straight to the cellar.  
  
“You told me the problem would be solved by using another’s wand!”  
  
Voldemort’s shouts could be clearly heard in the drawing room as could Ollivander’s screams. Draco shrank back, leaning against his mother who rubbed a soothing hand over his back. The screaming went on for a long time, when Voldemort finally reemerged from the cellar his face was set with grim determination.  
  
“The Ministry must fall, Scrimgeour must be removed from power. Make this happen Yaxley, and make it happen quickly.” Voldemort paced the floor. “I have a visit to make; I will be gone for a few days. In my absence I expect you all to follow Severus’s orders as though they were my own. Is that clear?”  
  
The gathering mumbled their acceptance. Draco looked at Snape who was standing at the fireplace, his face implacable, hands clasped together, eyes focused on a point somewhere on the far wall. That Snape was Voldemort’s right hand man scared Draco, he knew that the Hogwarts professor would carry out orders without emotion, he had seen that first hand, and his blood turned to ice in his veins. Snape was one of his teachers at Hogwarts and Draco knew he would not be kind on him when he returned to school in September.  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Draco had never been to Godric’s Hollow but he knew something of it’s history. Professor Binns classes had been boring but Draco had paid attention to the lesson on Godric’s Hollow, primarily so he could taunt Potter after. He and his father had apparated a mile or so away from the village and were walking on a small winding road towards a small typical English village with small cottages, a church, a pub and a few small shops set around the village square.  
  
“Remember Draco, this is an important task, we will be providing our Lord with vital information that may be critical to his victory.”  
  
Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  
  
_We are spying on an ancient witch not capturing members of the Order._  
  
They passed a row of cottages, his father paused in front of a cottage that was in ruins, a sign was set in front of the gate.  
  
‘On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family.’  
  
The sign was covered in well wishes and support for Potter written by many hands over many years.  
  
_This is where Potter got the scar, this is where he faced The Dark Lord and survived._  
  
Draco wanted to reach out and touch the sign, add his silent support to Potter, but he feared his father’s reaction so he buried his hands deep into his pockets.  
  
“This place is dead, as should the Potter boy be.” His father turned away. “Come Draco, we have a job to complete.”  
  
They continued on until they reached a cottage at the end of the lane. It was similar to the other cottages around it, but had a look of old age that came from neglect rather than actual age of the building. High hedges surrounded the cottage with a small gate allowing access to the front path leading to the cottage door. Draco and his father stood at the gate looking at the cottage windows, there was no sign of anyone inside, his father placed a finger to his lips indicating for Draco to be quiet, and pushed open the gate. Draco followed his father up the path then slipped away to check the back of the building whilst his father remained at the front. Draco hugged the wall as he made his way around to the back, he could see a chicken coup and piles of rusted junk in the back garden, but everything was still and calm. He eased himself forward until he was under the back window, he gingerly raised himself up and peeked through the window into the interior of the cottage.  
  
It was dark inside, the ceilings were very low and the hedges prevented the sun from lighting the room. Draco was looking in through the kitchen window, he could see through to the front window but he could not make out many details in the gloom. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness inside he noticed a fireplace, a mirrored dresser that held several silver photo frames and an old armchair. The room seemed cozy but ill cared for, as if the owner rather couldn’t or didn’t keep on top of the cleaning, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There was a noise from the front of the house, Draco saw his father’s head appear briefly at the front window, and to his utter surprise a figure rose from the armchair, in the dark he had not noticed the witch in the chair.  
  
“Who’s there?” Her voice was raspy with age. “If that’s you again Skeeter you can bugger off. I have nothing more to say to you.”  
  
She was tiny, with a bowed back, her sparse hair snow white, and she moved with slow shuffling steps the front door her wand held up ready to cast. Draco panicked, his father was out front and she only had to look through the window to see him. He picked up an old moldering shoe from the ground and threw it at the pile of junk. The clatter it made knocking the pile over made even Draco jump.  
  
“How dare you creep around my home! I shall report you to the Ministry.”  
  
The voice was now moving towards the back of the house, Draco ran around the corner back to the front where his father was crouched below the window.  
  
“We should go.”  
  
Draco darted through the gate, his father close behind him, walking back towards the end of the lane.  
  
“She’s bat shit crazy,” Draco muttered, “what does he want from her? Waste of time being here.”  
  
His father grabbed Draco’s arm. “We do not question the Dark Lords plans, we follow his orders, we are his servants. We do as we are commanded.”  
  
Draco shook off his fathers hand.  
  
_Like that’s worked out so well for us in the past._  
  
The sound of a gate swinging closed drew they eyes back to the Bagshot house, Bathilda was ambling down the lane, a bunch of wild flowers from her garden in her age withered hands. Draco and his father sank back into the shadow of a large oak tree, waiting until she had passed by before following her. The old witch turned into the church and headed through the gates through to the graveyard,  
  
She stopped at a headstone at the back of the cemetery, Draco and his father sidled along the back wall of the cemetery until they were able to hear her talking.  
  
“I’m sorry for your loss Kendra, Albus was a good man, despite all that business with Grindelwald, and a good son. He tried to keep you safe Ariana, he always carried the guilt of your death with him . So many gone, not many of us old ones left now. And these young ones, they are so vain, so arrogant, they think they know it all, but we know, we know what it’s like, we were there, they have no idea how bad this is going to be.”  
  
Bathilda rubbed a hand across the top of the gravestone, almost as though she were soothing it. “I should never have spoken to that Skeeter woman, she’s a vile piece of hippogriff shit, taking what I said, twisting it round, and stealing my photos. Abe is the last Dumbledore left, he’s still running that shabby inn in Hogsmeade, sent me a letter, said he’s keeping an eye on the Potter boy, taking over form Albus, keeping him safe. We all know the Potter boy is the Chosen One, he just has to stay alive long enough. I miss Lily and James, such nice people, I never did get over what happened to them. Maybe I’ll stop by and talk to them.”  
  
The old witch shambled away, winding through the graveyard muttering to herself under her breath.  
  
“We’ve seen enough,” Draco’s father said, “we have information for our Lord, useful information. A watch should be placed on Aberforth Dumbledore if he is helping Potter.”  
  
The apperated back to the Manor, Draco’s mother was waiting for them, her eyes wide with fear.  
  
“Lucius! Draco!”  
  
“What is it Narcissa?”  
  
“The Ministry has fallen. The Dark Lord now has control of the Ministry.”  
  
“So with the Ministry fallen the enchantments protecting the Potter boy will be broken.” His father sounded pleased.  
  
“The enchantments are already down,” his mother said looking at Draco. “Rowle and the others are already on the way to the Weasley house.  
  
Draco felt sick.  
  
_If The Dark Lord has Harry then it’s over, we are all dead._  
  
“Come Draco,” his mother led him from the room, “we should prepare for when our Lord returns.”  
  
A numbness seeped into Draco.  
  
_Nothing can prepare us for this, nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always imagined that Lucius would do ANYTHING to get back in Voldemort's good graces, however menial the task.
> 
> So that was how Voldemort kept tabs on Bathilda Bagshot - before he had her murdered and used Nagini to use her body to lure Harry into her cottage on Christmas Eve. And why the alarms were set in Hogmeade in case Harry went to see Aberforth ;)
> 
> I hope you are enjoying my version of events - as always comments and feedback is much appreciated.
> 
> Peace and love xx


	4. Crucio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission to capture Harry has failed. Voldemort is not pleased and he takes his wrath out on those gathered at Malfoy Manor.

Potter had escaped. Potter, Granger and Weasley had escaped just as the Death Eaters had descended on The Burrow. Draco had been relieved until Rowle summoned Voldemort to deliver the bad news.  
  
“You let him escape?” The Dark Lord’s face was contorted with rage. “Three teenage _children_ outwitted my supposed elite commanders? You make even Lucius here look competent.”  
  
Some light laughter floated across the room from the other Death Eaters gathered there.  
  
Rowle, to his credit, did not waver under that stare. “Forgive me please, my Lord. It was chaotic, so many people, too –“  
  
“ENOUGH” Voldemort roared. “I do not wish to hear excuses. There are no excuses. I do not care how many people were at that wedding; your mission was to get the boy.”  
  
Voldemort’s voice was cold; it made Draco feel as though he were doused in icy water even from the other side of the room.  
  
“Who is responsible for this? Who let the Potter boy escape?”  
  
There was silence. No one spoke, no one moved, all eyes were cast to the floor.  
  
“No one?” Voldemort asked. “Will no one take _credit_ for this?”  
  
Draco drew back further, his mother had her arms around him holding him close, keeping him safe.  
  
Voldemort knelt on the floor; he was face to face with Rowle. “Your bravery in coming forward is to be commended, but your stupidity must be punished.”  
  
Voldemort rose to his feet. “Who here would like to inflict that punishment?”  
  
“I will,” Bellatrix said with a giggle. “I would be happy to punish the festering little worm.”  
  
“Not you Bella, your enthusiasm is, as always, endearing, but I wish for someone else to be the provider of pain tonight.” Voldemort walked over to the Death Eaters gathered against the far wall. “Any volunteers or do I have to choose?”  
  
More silence.  
  
‘How about you Nott? Surely you would not baulk at such a task?”  
  
Draco keep his eyes on the floor, his mother hugged him tighter.  
  
“Perhaps you are not in the mood for torture tonight. What about you Goyle? What say you to making Rowle squirm in agony?”  
  
“I….I would be happy to assist my Lord.” Goyle stammered.  
  
“No. Not you Goyle, but please take my sincere appreciation for your offer. I think I require the services of someone less experienced. Let me see…..who should I choose?”  
  
Voldemort’s voice came from directly in front of Draco. “Ah yes, young Malfoy. I think the honour should be yours.”  
  
Draco felt his mother’s hands clench around him, he kept his eyes on the floor willing The Dark Lord to move on.  
  
“Come Draco, this will be your moment to shine.”  
  
Voldemort grabbed Draco by the arm and dragged him away from his mother, leading him over to Rowle who was still kneeling on the floor in the center of the room.  
  
“There Draco, you need merely raise your wand and cast the curse. You may proceed when ready.”  
  
Draco’s heart hammered in his chest, he was frozen to the spot in fear. He stood looking down at Rowle.  
  
_I can’t do this, I can’t do this. Please don’t make me do this._  
  
“You seem reluctant Draco. Bella – your nephew does not seem to comprehend what is required. Maybe you could demonstrate?”  
  
A peal of manic laughter. “Crucio!”  
  
The pain hit him so suddenly that he didn’t have the time to cry out. Every muscle, every nerve, every particle of him was drowning in pain. This was pain beyond pain; there was nothing but the pain, he was floating in an endless ocean of pain.  
  
It stopped as suddenly as it started. Draco found himself laying on the floor curled up in a ball at Voldemort’s feet.  
  
“Would you like to try again Draco?” Voldemort hauled Draco up to standing. “Rowle is waiting.”  
  
Draco raised his wand, pointing it at the blonde Death Eater, it waivered crazily in his hand.  
  
_I can’t inflict that pain on anyone. It’s cruel. It’s barbaric. How can anyone want to do this?_  
  
“Still having trouble Draco? Maybe this will convince you.” Voldemort raised his wand. “Crucio!”  
  
Draco’s mother dropped to the floor, her eyes rolling in her head, her limbs flailing wildly in spasms.  
  
“Stop! Please stop! I’ll do it, I’ll do it.” Draco was crying, tears streaming down his face. “Just let her go.”  
  
“At last you are seeing sense.” Voldemort lowered his wand, Draco saw his mother get shakily to her feet. “Please continue Draco.”  
  
Swallowing down the fear in his belly Draco raised his wand again. “Crucio.”  
  
Nothing happened. He tried again. “Crucio.” Still nothing.  
  
“You have to _mean_ it Draco.” Voldemort stood behind him, held Draco’s arm out straight, fingers caressing the back of Draco’s hand. “Do it, or I will kill your mother.” The last words were whispered in Draco’s ear.  
  
_Fuck, fuck, fuck._  
  
“Crucio!”  
  
Rowle dropped to the floor writhing in agony, his screams echoing off the walls.  
  
“Good boy Draco,” Voldemort whispered in his ear. “Good boy.”  
  
Draco was so relieved when Voldemort moved away to stand over Rowle he almost dropped his wand.  
  
“More, Rowle, or shall we end it and feed you to Nagini? Lord Voldemort is not sure he will forgive this time…You called me back for this, to tell me that Harry Potter has escaped again? Draco, give Rowle another taste of our displeasure…..Do it or feel my wrath yourself!”  
  
“Crucio!” Draco screamed. “Crucio, Crucio, Crucio!”  
  
He didn’t know how long he stood there throwing the curse, it seemed to be forever until Voldemort finally allowed him to stop.  
  
Voldemort smiled at the gathered Death Eaters. “I believe we are done for the night, what fun we had.” The smile faded and was replaced by stone cold anger. “I do not expect to be summoned again unless the boy is in your hands. I will not be so forgiving next time.”  
  
Voldemort disapperated, and Draco could do nothing more than collapse on the floor next to the still shaking forms of Rowle and Dolohov.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
The screams woke him, his screams. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the sunroom after dinner but the physical and mental torture he had endured had worn him out so much that he slept deeply. Until the nightmares started. The screams were still in his throat when his mother wrapped her arms around him pulling him to her, stroking his hair, wiping away the tears.  
  
“Be still my love, be still my dragon, mother is here, you are safe, be still my darling.”  
  
She crooned the words, rocking him back and forth in her arms as she had done when he was a little child.  
  
_I wish we could go back, go back to when we were happy, when there was no Voldemort._  
  
“Hush, hush Draco, all will be well, it’s over now, I love you my sweetheart, I love you.”  
  
“I hurt them, I hurt them so badly, they were screaming,” Draco sobbed against his Mother’s chest. “I didn’t want to do it but I had to, he hurt you, I couldn’t let him hurt you again.”  
  
“I know my sweet, but we have to do as he asks,” she continued to rock him in her arms, “however much it pains you, you must do as he asks.”  
  
“I’m scared; scared for you, scared for me, scared for everyone.” Draco sat up and looked his mother in directly the eyes. “We have to help Harry, he’s the chosen one, he’s the only one that can stop the Dark Lord.”  
  
His mother pulled him back into her embrace. “Draco darling,” she whispered into his hair, “you cannot talk of that here, I do not believe it’s safe to talk in the Manor. Next week we will go to Diagon Alley for your school supplies, we can talk then, but for now you must say nothing of this. Promise me you will say nothing.”  
  
“I promise,” Draco whispered back, “I love you mother.”  
  
“I love you too Dragon, now go to bed, we will talk more later.”  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
“Do I really have to go back to Hogwarts?” Draco asked for probably the tenth time. “I would rather stay with you, stay at the Manor.”  
  
“You will be much safer at Hogwarts,” his mother said, “Severus will be there, he will ensure your safety.”  
  
“Snape hates me,” Draco said quietly, “hates me for making him finish my task.”  
  
“He does not hate you, but equally he cannot show you any favourtism.” His mother led him to the back table at Muggle tea shop far enough away from Diagon Alley that they were unlikely to be observed. “You cannot hide away my dragon, you must go back to school.”  
  
_If I stay at home I can protect mother from her fucked up crazy sister and from HIM, I don’t want to leave her with them, or my father._  
  
Draco dropped his voice even further “We have to help him, Harry, he’s our only hope.”  
  
His mother glanced around nervously. “We cannot go against The Dark Lord, he will kill us.”  
  
“He will probably kill us anyway, whether we help Harry or not.”  
  
His mother chewed her lip. “No one can know, not even your father, especially not your father, and it cannot be anything obvious.”  
  
Draco reached for his mother’s hand. “I would never put you in danger, but doing nothing will lead to our deaths. I know it.”  
  
_I’ve seen it, in my dreams, my nightmares._  
  
His mother sighed. “I know my love, I know. If you have to the chance to side with Potter then take it, beg for his protection if that’s what it is needed, but take it.”  
  
“Only if you can come too, I’m not leaving you there, with them.”  
  
“Draco, my sweet sweet boy, if I knew you were safe I would gladly give up my life. I will do what I can but if I have to die to keep you safe I will.”  
  
“No!” Draco hissed. “I will NOT leave you to die.”  
  
His mother squeezed his hand gently. “Let us not talk of death, you leave for Hogwarts in a few short weeks, let us just enjoy our time together, leave such talk for another time.”

Harry and his friends were still holed up at the Black residence, their movements were being monitored but so far the Death Eaters had been unable to capture any of the Order. The days crawled by, Draco spent most of his time studying in his room or walking the grounds with his mother, he was heartsick to leave her at the Manor, especially as his father appeared to be unraveling before their eyes. He was desperate to win back Voldemort’s approval; he was torturing the prisoners without reason, trying to eke out any tiny piece of information that might be useful to the Dark Lord. Draco had stayed out of his way as much as possible, he was turning quite as mad as aunt Bellatrix who’s screeches and insane laughter reverberated around the Manor at all hours of the night and day. Draco had begged Snape to allow him to apparate to Hogsmead and walk to the school rather than take the Hogwarts Express, the new Headmaster had finally agreed on the condition that Draco attend all his assigned classes _'without exception_ '. The first of September came too quickly, although Draco was increasing uncomfortable at home with the steady stream of Death Eaters and prisoners flowing through the Manor, he was worried about his reception at school. Not one of his friends had contacted him over the summer, it seemed that friendship only extends as far as your family’s reputation, and Draco knew he was in for a difficult time ahead.  
  
“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?” Draco tried one last time to persuade his mother that Hogwarts was not in his best interest.  
  
“Draco, we have been over this, you are better off at Hogwarts away from - ” a scream came from the dungeon, “- from all this.” She hugged him close, whispering into his ear. “And I’m scared that if you stay here you will be made to do more horrible things. I don’t want that for you dragon, you have been through enough.”  
  
Draco stiffened, he was scared that he would find the same horrors at school, the Carrows were taking over two of the teaching posts and Draco knew how cruel they could be.  
  
“I will be fine,” he forced a smile on his face. “It will be Christmas before we know it and I will be home for the holidays.”  
  
“I will write every week,’ her tears fell on Draco’s cheek mingling with his own. “Please be safe my love, come home safe.”  
  
Draco broke the hug. “I should go, I don’t want to be late for the sorting and the feast.”  
  
With a last look at the Manor and his mother’s pale face he apparted for Hogsmead, and he couldn’t help wonder if he would ever be coming back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter around the vision of Voldemort that Harry has, while hiding out at Grimmauld Place after fleeing the wedding, where he sees Draco being forced to perform the cruciatus curse on Rowle. (Deathly Hallows end of chapter 9)
> 
> As always comments and feedback is most welcome.
> 
> Peace and love xx


	5. Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco goes back to Hogwarts - how will he be treated by the students and staff? How will the school have changed?

School was worse than he had imagined. The Hogwarts he had attended for the last six years was gone and in it’s place was a school of punishment and pain. Although he had held no great love for Dumbledore he could now appreciate how much of a stabilizing influence the wizard had been on the students and staff.  
  
Draco was treated like an outcast. His friends and the rest of the Slytherins avoided him, although no one knew the details of Draco’s failure, the news that the Malfoy name was going to shit had spread far and wide. No one wanted to be associated with him, Goyle had confessed that his father had told him to avoid Draco, and he was shunned by the other houses. Where he was once a leader he was now a loner who spent the majority of his time alone studying in the library.  
  
Dark Arts class was the worst, Amycus Carrow was teaching dark magic making them practice on each other and, at times, younger children from first and second year. Many students refused, including Longbottom, the Weasley girl and Lovegood, and they were punished by other students eager to perform the cruciatus curse on them. Draco himself refused the first time he was asked to curse a tiny first year Ravenclaw, he could not inflict pain on a frightened child, which earned him suffering the pain of the curse inflicted by stony-faced Theo Nott. The pain went on for an eternity, Draco fled to his mind, shutting himself off from his physical body, he could not imagine how anyone would want to inflict this agony on anyone and take pleasure from it.  
  
He was summoned to Headmaster Snape’s office, his stomach clenched in knots, he had always been slightly scared of the former potions master but now he was terrified of him, especially as he was one of the few who knew the depths of his failure.  
  
“Come.” Snape’s flat voice came from inside the headmaster’s study.  
  
Draco sidled into the room, Snape was seated behind the desk and did not even look up when Draco entered.  
  
“Sit.”  
  
Draco sat. Snape continued writing not acknowledging Draco in any way.  
  
_He’s fucking with me, making me sweat. Bastard._  
  
After five minutes Snape placed his quill back in the inkwell and finally raised his head to look at Draco. His black eyes were so dark and intense, it felt as though they were looking directly into Draco’s soul. Without thinking Draco raised his mind barriers, protecting his thoughts from Snape.  
  
“Professor Carrow informs me that you have been refusing to take part in the practical elements of the Dark Arts class. This is unacceptable. Given the circumstances I would think that you would be eager to show your commitment. The fact that your father has such a low standing should dissuade you from disobedience, yet you sit in class sniveling like a coward.”  
  
“I am not a coward.”  
  
“No? Then why did I have to finish the task The Dark Lord charged you with? You are weak, a disgrace, just like your father.”  
  
Anger bubbled in his stomach; he clenched his hands into fists, digging fingernails into the palms of his hands.  
  
_I fucking hate him._  
  
“You will perform all your classes in full and with obedience, I will not tolerate any further insubordination. Should you fail to execute each and every lesson requirement I am sure that your aunt Bellatrix would be happy to involve your mother in any punishments that were necessary.”  
  
“No! Leave my mother out of it.”  
  
“You dare challenge me boy?” Snape’s voice was cold and sneering. “I believe that has just earned you a detention with Professor Carrow. Now get out of my sight.”  
  
Later that night Draco lay in his bed in the Slytherin dorm trying not to whimper. Carrow had been more cruel than usual and Draco was covered in bruises and cuts but he was still in better shape than Longbottom who had received more severe punishments for refusing to perform curses multiple times. Healing spells and lessons were now off the school curriculum but Luna had healed Draco’s broken fingers along with Longbottom’s, the kindness of the act almost made him cry. Draco knew that Dumbledore’s Army was still active; he half wished he could join but he knew that even if they accepted him, which was pretty much a zero chance, it would spell instant death for his family, but he didn’t report them as he should have under the new school rules. He vowed there and then that any chance he had to help Potter and his supporters he would, the nightmare that would be life under Voldemort’s rule was too awful to contemplate.  
  
Night after night he listened to the radio, hearing the names of the missing wizards, missing presumed dead. He wrote down every name in a small notebook, he didn’t ever want to forget what this war was costing, never wanted to forget those who lost their lives trying to stop the relentless push of the Dark Lord. His days were filled with trying to survive and his nights filled with the names of the dead. He didn’t know when this would ever end.  
  
*******************************************************************************  
  
Draco arrived home to the Manor to find it much changed from the Christmas celebrations he was used to in the past. There were no decorations, no tree, an air of gloom hung over everything and even the usually cheerful house elves appeared to be moping in the kitchens. Voldemort was still away, for which Draco was grateful, but there were still a number of Death Eaters in the Manor, his crazy aunt among them. She enjoyed visiting the prisoners in the cellar, taunting them, at times torturing them, just for enjoyment, her insane laughter echoing up the stairs into the drawing room. Draco was asked to take food down to the cellar, meager rations of stale bread and water, and was surprised to hear soft singing coming from the locked cell. He cast Lumos and to his horror the light illuminated Luna sitting on the floor, cross-legged, singing as she braided her hair.  
  
“Luna? What are you doing here?”  
  
“Oh, hello Draco. I’m singing to the Nargles, it keeps them from stealing my shoes, and to Mr. Ollivander too of course.”  
  
“No I mean why are you here, at the Manor, in the cellar?”  
  
“They took me on my way home. I think The Quibbler is not very popular, which is very sad, my Father works very hard, he writes every word himself. He will be terribly unhappy to spend Christmas on his own.”  
  
“Are you alright?”  
  
_Stupid question, she’s locked in fucking cell._  
  
“It’s a little cold, but it’s not so bad. Mr. Ollivander is very sad, which is why I’m singing, to make him feel better.”  
  
Draco felt sick to the pit of his stomach, imprisoning Luna to punish her father for writing articles was wrong, so wrong. That a girl as innocent and vulnerable as Luna was being used as a pawn to force her father in line was despicable, it broke his heart to see her holed up in his home. For the rest of his time in the Manor he tried to help where he could; warming spells, extra food when he could sneak it from the kitchens, and a couple of old blankets that would not be missed.  
  
He walked in the gardens with mother every day, it was bitterly cold but the biting chill was preferable to the heavy, suffocating air of despondency that lingered in the Manor. They talked about inconsequential things, neither wanting to talk of the prisoners in the cellar, the Death Eaters in the Manor or the darkness that was surely coming. He had not told his mother of the cruelty of the new Hogwarts, his bruises had faded by the time he returned home, and he saw no reason to give her more reasons to worry. She had enough to deal with, especially with father who was sinking further and further into despair at the fall of the Malfoy name, and wandered around the Manor like one of the Hogwarts ghosts. It was his last day before returning to Hogwarts, there was snow in the air, soft fluffy flakes deadening the world in a flurry of white.  
  
“Look after Luna,” Draco asked, his eyes fixed in the distance, “she is so vulnerable.”  
  
“She’s stronger than you think, that girl has a strength of spirit that is not easily broken,” his mother smiled at him, “but I will do what I can.”  
  
“Is father….” Draco could hardly speak the words, and tears formed in his eyes, “is father…is he well?”  
  
“Your father is a proud man, a complex man, and he is finding our ‘situation’ difficult.” His mother pulled Draco into an embrace. “But know this, he loves you, and if it were a choice between his life and yours he would choose you every time. He is wrestling with his conscience, and in time he may look at things in a different light.”  
  
“We don’t have time, the war is coming.”  
  
“It is my sweet, and whatever happens your father and I will be with you. You are our everything my Dragon, never forget that.”  
  
“Even if I choose to side with Harry?”  
  
“Even then.”  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
The rumours at Hogwarts around Luna’s absence were rife. She had gone to be with Harry, she was on a secret mission for the Order, she was dead. Only Draco knew the truth but he could not speak it to anyone, there was no one with whom he could share his fears, share his thoughts, or share his secrets. He was alienated by his house and friends, despised by the rest of the school. He had taken to wandering the castle at night, he could not sleep and walking was better than laying in his bed staring at the ceiling. He found himself in the boy’s bathroom where, just the year before, he had broken down, overwhelmed with the task he had to complete, terrified of the consequences should he fail. The bathroom where he had almost died. His eyes were drawn to the floor where he had fallen, sliced to pieces by Harry’s spell, his life draining out of him, flowing down the drain.  
  
_I wanted to die. I wanted it to be over._  
  
“Oh! Hello Draco, you look much better than last time. Less bloody.”  
  
Draco whirled around at the voice; Moaning Myrtle was floating above a toilet in the second cubicle.  
  
‘Myrtle, how are you?” Draco had spent many long hours talking to the ghost in sixth year; she was his only confidant in a time where he couldn’t speak to anyone.  
  
_Much like now._  
  
“Oh, you know, flying around the pipework, scaring the new kids.” She floated closer to Draco, arms crossed, “The school is different, even the ghosts are talking about it.”  
  
“Yes, it’s very different now.”  
  
“Dumbledore died, he let the boy who killed me escape without punishment.” Myrtle zoomed around the room, “Maybe he deserved to die.”  
  
“I was supposed to kill him but I couldn’t do it.” Draco breath hitched at the memory of Dumbledore falling from the Astronomy Tower. “I just couldn’t do it.”  
  
Myrtle flew through the air coming to a stop right in front of him. “What about that other boy, Harry? Were you supposed to kill him too? You did a bad job of that, he had you on the floor, your blood running down the drain. I thought you were going to be another bathroom ghost.”  
  
“No, I wasn’t supposed to kill Harry.” Draco turned and looked back in the mirror, his pale face stared back at him. “I want to help Harry but I can’t.”  
  
“Why not?” Myrtle ran a ghostly had over his hair, he felt nothing. “Although why you want to help someone who sliced you up like chopped liver seems very odd.”  
  
“My family, he would kill my family if he found out.”  
  
“Harry would kill your family?” Myrtle did a loop the loop in the air. “He doesn’t seem the type. I saw him in the bath you know.”  
  
“Err, right, that’s nice.” Draco didn't really want to have thoughts of Harry in a bath. “I didn’t mean Harry I meant The Dark Lord.”  
  
“Oh him.” Myrtle made the lids on all the toilets crash down together. “He is a nasty one, he’s the one who killed me.” The last word came out as a screech.  
  
“That’s why I want to help Harry, but if anyone finds out my family will die.”  
  
“Well it seems to me as if you have two choices,” Myrtle floated up to the ceiling doing backstroke, “either do nothing and everyone dies, or do something and maybe people will live.”  
  
Draco smiled despite himself.  
  
_It sounds so simple when put like that_.  
  
“Thank you Myrtle.”  
  
“You are welcome, but now I have to go and frighten some first years in the girl’s bathroom. They are so easy to scare and it makes me laugh.” Myrtle took a spectacular dive into a toilet and disappeared down the u-bend.  
  
Draco washed his face and made his way back to the Slytherin dorm, and for some reason that night he fell asleep instantly and without nightmares to disturb his sleep.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The term dragged on, winter turned to spring and as the year rolled into March it was time for the Easter holidays. Draco apparated home, he was still avoiding the Hogwarts Express, and found the Manor even more gloomy than when he had left. Groups of Death Eaters came and went, tales of Harry Potter’s whereabouts put him in France, in Germany, in Italy, but no one really knew where the boy was hiding. Draco had slipped down to the cellar; Luna and Ollivander were still there but they had been joined by Dean Thomas and a goblin, who Draco vaguely recognized from Gringotts. Of Voldemort there was still no sign, for which Draco was eternally grateful.  
  
He was sitting with his parents in the drawing room when the gates alerted them to visitors.  
  
“I’ll go,” his mother said, “probably snatchers again with more wild tales.”  
  
Draco settled back down to read his book, the Rita Skeeter Dumbledore biography, when he heard his mother’s voice in the hallway.  
  
“My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If this is Harry Potter, he will know.”  
  
Draco’s heart started banging in his chest, the blood thrumming through his veins.   
  
His father rose out of his chair, eyes gleaming with hope. “What is this?”  
  
“They say they’ve got Potter,” his mother said, “Draco come here.”  
  
With his heart in his mouth Draco got up from his chair and looked at the boy being held by the werewolf.  
  
_Fuck, fuck fuck, it’s Harry, they have Harry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was never quite sure if Draco went back to Hogwarts to complete 7th year but the fact that Narcissa mentions that he is home for the Easter holidays leads me to think he was.
> 
> As always all comments and feedback are welcome.
> 
> Peace and love xx


	6. Given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The showdown at Malfoy Manor where Harry only just escapes with his life....with maybe a little help from an unexpected quarter.

“Well boy?” the werewolf asked him.  
  
Harry’s face was totally distorted; pink, swollen and shiny with long black hair falling to his shoulders, but even under all that Draco knew it was Harry. His eyes gave him away.  
  
“Well, Draco?” His father was more animated now than Draco had seen him in months. “Is it? Is it Harry Potter?”  
  
_I can’t give him away, they will call The Dark Lord and then he will kill him._  
  
“I cant – I can’t be sure.” He tried to keep his voice neutral.  
  
His father pulled Draco closer to Harry, excitement gleamed in his eyes. “But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!”  
  
Draco resisted looking at Harry, he didn’t want to give anything away. He was terrified that one slip would bring the Dark Lord to the Manor, and that slip would cost Harry his life. He tried to be nonchalant, uninterested.  
  
_Breathe, just breathe. Don’t panic, panicking will give you away._  
  
His father held his arm in a painful grip. “Draco,” he hissed, “if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv—“  
  
Greyback leaned forward, his breath stank like rotten meat. “Now, we wont be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope Mr. Malfoy?”  
  
“Of course not, of course not.”  
  
His father moved closer to Harry, Draco hung back, he didn’t want to get closer, didn’t want his father to see the recognition in his eyes.  
  
“What did you do to him? How did he get in this state?”  
  
The werewolf growled. “That wasn’t us.”  
  
“Looks more like a stinging jinx to me.”  
  
Draco risked a glance at Granger.  
  
_Clever, very clever._  
  
His father moved closer to Harry, peering at him, eyes raking over Harry’s forehead. “There’s something there, it could be the scar, stretched tight….Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?”  
  
Draco reluctantly moved to stand right in front of Harry, he tried to make his face blank, he was scared that he would give Harry away. He stared at Harry; their eyes met, he hoped the Gryffindor could read his intention.  
  
_I won’t give you away, I won’t hand you over. I know it’s you but I won’t give you away._  
  
“I don’t’ know.” He turned his back on Harry and walked back to the fireplace to stand with his mother.  
  
_She knows I know, she knows I lied_.  
  
“We had better be certain, Lucius,” his mother said her voice was cold and calculating. “Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord…..” she examined the wand Harry had been carrying; Draco knew it wasn’t Harry’s wand. “They say this is his but it does not resemble Ollivander’s description….If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing…Remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?”  
  
Draco could have hugged his mother.  
  
_She‘s trying to put doubts in father’s mind, persuading him to let Harry go!_  
  
Greyback pushed Harry out the way and pulled Granger forward. “What about the Mudblood then?”  
  
_Fuck, there was no way he could deny it was Hermione, apart from looking a bit disheveled there was no mistaking it was her. To deny it would be suicidal. His mother knew that too._  
  
“Wait,” his mother said. “Yes – yes, she was in Madam Malkin’s with Potter! I saw her picture in the _Prophet_! Look, Draco, isn’t it the Granger girl?”  
  
Draco didn’t want to answer, he couldn’t meet Hermione’s eyes, he turned away.  
  
“I….maybe…yeah.”  
  
His father was getting very agitated with excitement. “But then, that’s the Weasley boy! It’s them, Potter’s friends – Draco, look at him, isn’t it Arthur Weasley’s son, what’s his name—“  
  
“Yeah, it could be.” He hated saying the words, the betrayal tasting bitter in his mouth.  
  
To Draco’s dismay Bellatrix entered the room. The witch was certifiably insane, she was capable of killing the lot of them just because it amused her.  
  
_Fuck, she will recognize them for sure_.  
  
“What is this? What’s happened, Cissy?” His aunt circled the three friends, peering at them with her crazy eyes. “But surely this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?”  
  
His father was almost jumping with excitement. “Yes, yes, it’s Granger! And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!”  
  
“Potter?” his aunt shrieked, making Draco cringe. “Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!”  
  
Draco’s whole body thrummed with fear, panic clawed at his insides, his mind was shrieking at him to run.  
  
_Shit! There is no way out, there is nothing I can do, they were going to call The Dark Lord._  
  
Bellatrix pulled back her sleeve ready to call him, Draco shrank away from the Dark Mark.  
  
“I was about to call him!” His father snatched at Bellatrix’s wrist. “I shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore on my authority—“  
  
His father and aunt began to argue about who would summon The Dark Lord, bickering like children.  
  
_There must be something he could do. Think, Draco think. Maybe he could try a confundus charm? Could he cast it on everyone at once? If he got caught he would be killed. Maybe the deterioration hex – reduce his aunt and father’s powers? Brain Jelly jinx? No – it would be useless on his aunt, she was too powerful. A diversion then – something that would distract his aunt and father’s attention, give Harry the chance to apparate away._  
  
“Stupify! Stupify!”  
  
Bellatrix’s screams made Draco jump. His aunt had thrown the spell at the snatchers and had the werewolf on his knees. She was carrying a sword, the sword of Gryffindor, _where the fuck did that come from_ , which she was pointing at Greyback.  
  
“Where did you get this sword?” She pulled the wand out of the werewolf’s frozen hand.  
  
“How dare you! Release me woman!”  
  
“Where did you find this sword? Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!” Bellatrix was angry, which on top of insanity was not going to end well for the werewolf.  
  
“It was in their tent. Release me, I say!”  
  
Draco stared at Harry in amazement.  
  
_How the fuck did they get in and out of Gringotts to get the sword? It was impossible_.  
  
“Draco, move this scum outside,” his aunt indicated the unconscious snatchers. “If you haven’t got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me.”  
  
Draco swallowed hard, there was no way he could kill the men. Maybe he could use them as a diversion, buy Harry some time.  
  
His mother was furious at her sister. “Don’t you dare speak to Draco like—“  
  
“Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine Cissy! We have a very serious problem!”  
  
Draco used a levitating spell to move the men to the courtyard, he needed time to think, to think of a way he could help Harry and his friends without giving himself or his mother away. As well as being completely insane Bellatrix was also a very strong witch, it was going to be difficult to get anything past her. By the time he returned to the drawing room both Harry and Ron were in the cellar, and Bellatrix had Hermione on the floor and flinging curses at her. Both were screaming, Bellatrix with glee and Hermione with pain, Draco almost vomited on the spot.  
  
“What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!”  
  
“HERMIONE! HERMIONE!” Ron’s shouts rose from the cellar, Draco could hear him pounding on the walls.  
  
Draco shrank back against the wall next to his mother who also seemed to be in shock at the cruelty of her sister.  
  
_Fuck, this is insane._  
  
Bellatrix was holding Hermione down. “How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?”  
  
Hermione was sobbing so hard she could barely speak. “We only met him tonight! We’ve never been inside your vault….It isn’t the real sword! It’s a copy, just a copy!”  
  
Draco heard the desperation in Hermione’s voice, the pain, the anguish. He could barely stop himself from covering his ears to block out the sound.  
  
“A copy? Oh a likely story!”  
  
“But we can find out easily,” his father said. “Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!”  
  
Draco could have punched his father. He walked on shaky legs down to the cellar, dreading facing Harry and the other prisoners. He couldn’t do anything to help them, not with his aunt and father waiting upstairs, he would have to play along.  
  
He was shaking so hard, he could hardly make himself speak. “Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don’t try anything, or I’ll kill you.” He didn’t want to do this, his legs were barely holding him up.  
  
_Just go in, get the goblin and get the fuck out_.  
  
He took a deep breath, he pushed open the door hard and marched into the room with his wand raised. They were all lined up against the back wall as he had asked, he couldn’t look then in the face, especially Harry. He grabbed Griphook by the arm and backed out of the room dragging the goblin with him, he let out a sigh of relief as he slammed the door shut. He pushed Griphook up the stairs in front of him, Bellatrix was pacing the room the sword swinging from her hands.  
  
“Goblin,” Bellatrix sneered, “I have a question for you. And you should know your life is on the line for this.”  
  
“Yes Madam Lestrange,” the goblin bowed, “I am always happy to serve you.”  
  
“Is this the real sword of Gryffindor?” She handed the sword to the goblin.  
  
A loud cracking sound came from the cellar making Draco jump.  
  
“What was that?” his father shouted. “Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?”  
  
Draco started back towards the cellar.  
  
“Draco, no – call Wormtail, make him go and check!”  
  
The ratty looking man made his way down the steps to the cellar, whilst Draco and the others looked on.  
  
_I hope Harry has something planned to get himself out of here because I have nothing._  
  
Wormtail’s sniveling voice floated up from the cellar. “Stand back. Stand away from the door. I am coming in.”  
  
There was a brief flash of light then silence.  
  
“What is it Wormtail?” Draco’s father edged closer to the cellar.  
  
“Nothing, all fine!”  
  
“Leave him down there,” Bellatrix said, “I have some more games to play with our little Mudblood liar here.” She pointed her wand at Hermione. “Want to play a game Mudblood? It’s called who can scream the loudest.”  
  
Hermione’s scream tore through the air; Draco had to hold on to his mother for support.  
  
_She is going to kill her, that fucking manic is going to kill Hermione._  
  
The screaming stopped with a frightening suddenness. Hermione lay motionless at Bellatrix’s feet. Draco’s heart squeezed in his chest as he stared at Hermione.  
  
_Please don’t let her be dead, please don’t let her be dead._  
  
“Well? Is it the true sword.”  
  
Griphook looked up at Bellatrix. “No. It is a fake.”  
  
“Are you sure? Quite sure?”  
  
“Yes”  
  
“Good.” Bellatrix slashed the goblin’s face causing him to drop the sword. “And now we call the Dark Lord.”  
  
She touched the Dark Mark on her arm. Draco’s stomach clenched into knots.  
  
_No, no, no!_  
  
He looked around desperately, trying to form an idea of how he could get Harry out of the Manor. There was nothing.  
  
_I’ll just have to go grab him from the cellar and apparate._  
  
He knew that would mean certain death for him but there was no other way.  
  
“And I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her.”  
  
A huge cry came from the stairs to the cellar. “NOOOOOOOOOOO.”  
  
Ron came into the room at a run with Wormtail’s wand in his hand. “Expelliarmus!”  
  
To Draco it all seemed to happen in slow motion. Bellatrix’s wand flying through the air. Harry reaching out and grabbing the wand as it cartwheeled towards him. Harry casting stupefy. His father falling to the floor.  
  
Then the world sped up again, he was turning and casting minor jinxes at Harry who rolled behind a sofa.  
  
“STOP OR SHE DIES.”  
  
The blood drained from Draco’s face. Bellatrix had Hermione up on her feet and was holding a silver knife to her throat.  
  
“Drop your wands. Drop them or we’ll see exactly how filthy her blood is.”  
  
Neither Harry or Ron dropped the wands. Draco was sure Bellatrix was going to kill Hermione there and then. The knife pressed harder against Hermione’s throat.  
  
“I said drop them.”  
  
“Alright.” Harry threw down his wand followed by Ron.  
  
Bellatrix laughed. “Good. Draco pick them up. The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!”  
  
Draco scrambled to pick up the wands. For a split second he considered handing them back to Harry and Ron but Bellatrix still had hold of Hermione and he knew she wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. He handed the wands to his aunt.  
  
“Now Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood.” Bellatrix smiled at Greyback. “I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight.  
  
Draco had his wand in his hand, he looked towards his mother, she gave the tiniest shake of her head. This was not the time to try anything rash. Panic filled him, the Dark Lord could only be minutes away, once he was here it was all over.  
  
_I have to do something even if I die trying. If the Dark Lord kills Harry then we are all dead anyway._  
  
He raised his wand slightly, ready to blast his aunt away, when he heard a weird sound from above. He looked up and saw the huge glass chandelier start to fall towards the floor. It exploded as it hit the ground, glass fragments flying in all directions, and he felt the sting of pain as some sliced through his face.  
  
Then Harry was there, on him, wrestling with him, trying to pull the wands from Draco’s hands.  
  
_This I can do. I can give Harry the wands. He can get away before The Dark Lord arrives._  
  
Draco let go allowing Harry to grab all three wands.  
  
“Stupefy” Harry was already running as Greyback was blasted off his feet.  
  
Draco was yanked away by his mother who was pointing her wand at the doorway. Dobby, their former house elf, trotted into the room, but Draco’s focus was on Harry. He knew that Voldemort was now only seconds away and Harry was still in the drawing room.  
  
_Go, go now!_  
  
He watched as Harry grabbed hold of Dobby and the goblin and disapparated away. He had one last glimpse of green eyes that locked on his own before the space became empty.  
  
He hoped he had done enough. The fate of his family and the world rested on the shoulders of a boy with a scar and emerald eyes.  
  
_Well done Harry - now go and save the fucking world._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the dialogue is taken directly from Deathly Hallows (chapter 23) - the only non canon dialogue is to cover periods of the chapter where the focus was in a place where Draco was not present. I also skipped over a few bits covering them up with Draco's thoughts.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed seeing things from a different perspective. I'm thinking of doing a similar work for the Battle of Hogwarts - let me know if you would like me to write it.
> 
> Peace and love xx

**Author's Note:**

> I have always thought that Draco wanted to be on the 'right side' and that although he could never openly admit it, for fear of reprisals on his family, he helped Harry where he could.
> 
> I chose the story title 'In Between Days' because I love The Cure and it fits really well.
> 
> Thank you for reading - and please leave comments and feedback as it really does help me grow as a writer.
> 
> Peace and love xxx


End file.
